From Dark to Light
by MarauderTheMockingjay
Summary: The Golden Trio isn't so golden anymore. Harry Potter is the most loyal follower of the Dark Lord, but what if his mind was allegedly tampered with, after a failed mission, by the Order of the Phoenix. Voldemort may have won the battle, but will he win the war? AU. Mostly Hermione's POV. A bit of a Dark-Comedy.
1. Chapter 1

The Veriteserum was wearing off, Hermione knew that. But she couldn't let Ron find out. She and Ron were torturing information out of Harry Potter. The Dark Lord had reason to believe Harry was working with Albus Dumbledore, a troublemaking Dark wizard, greedy for power. Dumbledore believes that muggles, muggleborns, and halfbloods, shouldn't be shunned from the wizarding world. He was also the Headmaster of Hogwarts. That's the school that Ron Draco, and I attended. Harry too. We used to be the best of friends, but then Harry (allegedly) started defying the Dark Lord, and (allegedly) allied with Dumbledore and The Order. I won't say it aloud, but I'm not sure **HE** is the dark wizard.

As a hardly concious Harry sat slumped over, strapped to a chair in the middle of a dark room, somewhere within the catacombs of Burrow, he began to quietly mutter to Hermione, Ron had walked up from the cellar, reporting the news to Draco. Harry wouldn't budge, wouldn't release a single secret. I don't think he knows anything at all. I believe that he was falsely acsused of treason (once again), by Malfoy. Anyone who knew him, knew that he would say **ANYTHING** to get Harry out of the Dark Lord's good graces. Draco was constantly competing with Harry for everthing, even the Dark Lord's attention. But I have had my doubts too. Harry was always so outgoing, so courageous, so willing to take risks. Hermione admired that about him, as did everyone else, as did Lord Voldemort. Especially the Dark Lord. As soon as they graduated from Hogwarts, the Dark Lord finally came to power. He revealed the ugly-truth about Dumbledore, and everyone flocked to him, including Ron, Harry, and I. Harry didn't want to believe it, but eventually he came around. Then the Dark Lord started asking more... personal...more important favors of him. He did it all with enthusiasm, glad to help fight the war against the blood-traitor. But then, somewhere along the way, he snagged. He got captured by the Order, and they believe his mind was modifyed by them, to believe their filthy lies. I don't know what I believe, I just want the old Harry back, so I won't have to pretend to enjoy torturing the new one.

I turn my attention to Harry, hoping that Ron has a long report and wont be back for a while. Harry starts to coughing, blood spilling out of his mouth, threatening to drown him. I quickly grab a towel from a nearby stool and wipe Harry's face free of blood. I conjure up a glass of water and a bucket, then begin the tedious process of rinsing his mouth. He resists at first, but then realizes I am only trying to help. I whisper as I refill the glass and empty the bucket. " I am so sorry Harry. It's just Dra-" I get choked up and tears start falling down my cheeks. He looks up at me face unreadable (due to all of the beatings and blood), " Hermione, I know, I am skilled at mindreading you know." He said jokingly. Although I didn't laugh, because it really annoyed me when someone invaded my mind. I closed him off from my thoughts and continued. " Well then you already know that I am on your side, no matter what." I say with a tone of annoyance. " I am reasurred that you have my back, Hermione, but that isn't wise of you unless you plan to betray Riddle." Betray Lord Voldemort? Riddle? Oh no, not that nonsense again. " Harry, you know that I can't do that. Even if I believed Albus, I couldn't leave Ron. Not after his family-" I start to tear up again, angry that I'm letting myself get this upset in front of Harry. His shoulders slump and his gaze is to the floor. I place the towel back in time for Ron and Draco to enter the badly lit basement.

" Well, if it isn't The-boy-who-went-soft?" Malfoy spit, his voice full of venom. Harry's shoulders shook in laughter, causing his nose to bleed again. " I'm not soft Malfoy, I just know the truth. And the truth is, Tom Marvo-" Malfoy then angrily conjured a wooden club, and swung hard for Harry's jaw. The blow awful. Harry's head whipped to the side, blood and several teeth flew from is mouth. He was once again slumped over, choking on his own crimson blood. " You no good-filthy-blood-traitor!" Malfoy yelled, each pause signifying another painful impact frm the club. He threw the club across the dim-lit room, so hard that it put a dent in the drywall. He was shaking in anger, Harry's blood spalttered on his pure white button-up. " How...dare you...even..." He starts, his fist balling up, ready to stike Harry once more. He was most likely seeing red now. Draco was easily the most loyal servant of the Dark Lord, second to Harry of course. He killed his own father for speaking ill of our Lord when he was 16. All Draco ever wanted was to have an undercover mission, like Harry has. But the Dark Lord refuses him, saying he is not ready yet. Of course Draco would never question his decisions, but you can tell he resents Harry for it. "How dare you speak that...that...foul name! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!" He was sweating, a crazed grimace on his face. He often gets furious when someone disrespects our Lord, we all do really. But he takes it to a whole new level.

Draco whips out his wand and points it roughly at Harry throat, after forcing his head up. " Look at me, you filthy blood traitor!" He barked at him. Ron was rolling with laughter, forgetting that this was our _best friend _ we were torturing! Even Draco had grown on us, his competitve attitude with Harry became friendly. Until it wasn't. I knew I had to stop him, before he did something too drastic.

" Draco. While Ron was reporting to you, I got Harry to talk. He didn't tell me anything of value, but if you give me another chance, I might get something out of him. I hate this new Harry just as much as the both of you," I send a pointed look to the cackling ginger. " But we'll never be able to save _our friend_, if you kill him." Draco was still staring at Harry, his wand jabbing his throat. He then stood slowly and turned to me, his cold blue eyes piercing into my own brown ones, as if searching my soul. " But Grang-Hermione, he..._disrespected _the Dark Lord!" He spat at me, as if my name left a bad tast in his mouth. " No need to get that tone with me! I'm just saying that if you kill him, we can't help him, _save him_." I respond quickly, my temper growing. The anger behind his eyes quickly goes out, as he just stares at me soberly.

" I think Hermione has a point. As much as I'd like to blow the slimy git to peices, we should at least find out if his mind was...altered." Ron's comment left Draco's jaw on the floor, while I only managed to blink. Ron has never been brilliant, but he was a loyal friend, and a loyal servant to the Dark Lord. After he lost his entire family in the war (they fought for the light), he knew it was a lost cause to try and unify the Mudbloods and those of Pureblood descent. We are just too different, and when he was asked to give a reason to fight against the Dark Lord, he didn't have one. He had no one left to fight for.

" Yeah...Alright. But if he speaks out about Lord Voldemort again, I'll carve his Dark Mark right off his skin...with the sword of Slytherin!" Gloated Malfoy triumphantly. I swear I saw a small smile traced on Harry's beaten face. It was an inside joke between the two. In their sixth year (when Draco talked Harry into going to the "proper side of the spectrum"), Harry and Draco had become really close. Them, against Crabbe and Goyle, Zambini and Ron, along with Pansy and Me, were competing for the best end of term prank against the Gryffindor House. Crabbe and Goyle came in fourth by jinxing a bludger at Gryffindor Quidditch practice, injuring their keeper, Cormac Mclaggen. He was out of the hospital wing in time to win the game against Hufflepuff. Ron and Blaise came in third after using polyjuice potion to pose as to Gryffindor third years, who recklessy and constantly lost the house over 200 points. They were never caught, but had to obliviate quite a few prefects. Pansy and I came in second with a genius ploy. We bewitch a dozen barn owls to deliver hundreds of fake love letters to various Gryffindor guys and girls. They were all doused in Amorentia, but each modified for a certain pairing. We also did weeks of reseach to see who was smitten and who absolutely hated each other, and paired them accordingly (*wink*). The professors never suspected anything, instead they just blamed the sudden behavior on " raging hormones" as Professor Sprout put it. Severus knew what we were up to, he was our secret supplier of the love potion! But he turned a blind eye when he saw the Gryffindors acting out, only sneering at how foolish they would look when it wore off a week later.

Draco and Harry. They caused more mischief than even Harry's foolish father and his gang of "Marauders"! They had started planning their prank the day we devised the plan, during our train ride before term. Their plan was risky, rewarding, and very...very permenant. And they succeeded, even earning a slap on the back from Snape and every other Slytherin. They wouldn't give any of us details but what they did was pretty major. They successfully transfigured the Sword of Godric Gryffindor into one of Salazar Slytherin, the beloved founder of our house.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys, I haven't received any PMs, so I guess its safe to say no one has adopted the story. With that said, I have a gift to all of you. I have greatly cleared my schedule, so I will continue this story to the best of my ability. Enjoy!**

Harry was off the hook for now, but we still needed to consult with the Dark Lord so he could make the final decision. Ron was currently healing Harry with his new wand, a gift from Severus. Sev was the first to respond to our owl, sent to the renovated Riddle Manor. He promptly wrote back, saying that a meeting with the Dark Lord was necessary and that we should fly over as soon as possible. I wrote to the ex-potions-master that we would be arriving at the Manor after we cleaned up a bit, for Lord Voldemort's sake. Little known fact, the guy gets really freaked out by blood, that's why he uses AK instead of more grotesque spells. He'll never admit though.

"Draco, Ron. What exactly are we going to tell the Dark Lord? We all know he wants to trust Harry as much as we do, but he will take more convincing." I state very matter-of-factly. To all of our surprise, Harry is the one who happens to speak up. "You tell him your suspicions, and Hermione could interrogate me further. We all know how far you've advanced in Legilimency, how your skill far surpasses all but Sev and the Dark Lord. " I was struck by his bluntness, as if it would be that easy. "Harry, do you honestly believe it would be that simple? I mean, our master has heard worst from that git Pettigrew, but this is just a bit too black and white." Ron said while putting his medical degree to work. He was still a student, but had all of the standard training, which was just enough to fix Harry up.

"Look guys, I'm just stating facts. The Dark Lord isn't too thick as to not listen to a suggestion from three of his most loyal followers. You just have to put it all on the table at the jump, so it would be impossible for him to overthink it, and deny." Harry should take a break from going on those missions, because if they are tampering with his mind, it's also effecting his decision-making. "Harry, you sound like you're asking us to manipulate our master. Please tell me I'm wrong?" I pleaded. He just sighed. "I think we should follow through with Harry's plan, maybe it isn't as black-and-white as you think Hermione. I mean, it's really a plan based on logic, and you're all for that. That's why Lord Voldemort enlisted you into the Death Eater ranks, you were always very rational in a time when most would panic. Think about it, our master would eat that up, and it has the potential to work! I just want to help our friend, and destroy whoever is turning him against the Dark Lord. And hey, maybe you'll finally get a mission, Hermione." Draco said as he was directing a mop across the basement floor, cleaning up the pools of blood. I was gathering all of the paperwork and instructions for Sev and Dolohov, and jamming it unceremoniously into my overnight duffel. We always stayed in the abandoned Burrow whenever we had a victim to interrogate.

My parents would cringe at hearing all that I've done in the past few years. Even I sometimes wonder if I chose the wrong path for myself, if going with Dumbledore when he asked would have been the right choice. But I soon forget that when my wand is in my hands, twisting and manipulating the minds of blood-traitors and muggles (Hermione is pureblood in this story). Distorting their images on everything that stood for equality, showing the ugly truth of the world, the way all Death Eaters see it. All of my doubt is washed away by the sound of my most recent victim's blood-curdling screams fill the air, my wand slashing and dicing away at them, my voice and demeanor malicious, yelling at them to speak only the truth. Them begging me to administer the truth-serum, because they would never willingly give away their secrets. And I eventually do, but not after satisfying my bloodlust. When I began craving blood-spill, I may never know, but now it is like a crutch. I am addicted to this lifestyle, and I don't plan on abandoning it anytime soon.

"Okay. Is everyone ready? Draco, keep Harry restrained just in case the Dark Lord is still upset." I commanded. "Okay. Are we gonna Floo, or fly?" Draco asked as he flicked his wand to reset the leather bands on the restraint chair. "Fly, it's quicker." Ron answered before I had the chance. "Very well, then. Let's head out. DE Unit 934, Juniors in Interrogation, move out!" Draco yelled, and in unison, we formed into thick black vapor, and zoomed out of the basement; The Riddle Manor would be 30-minute trip.


	3. Chapter 3

Flying under the pale moon, subtly illuminating the night, with my closest friends was paradise. We passed over the arched silhouettes of werewolves, their wicked howls lingering in the still air. All of us resembled flickering black flames as our obsidian cloaks billowed in the gusts of wind. Lord Voldemort doesn't require us to wear our masks while flying, since the darkness that surrounds us is so thick; we just strap our masks to our belts. Ron is off to the left, Draco to the right, leaving me to guard Harry. His face looked very passive, as he let the power of the Dark Lord carry him away in the night. Harry's eyes were closed, he often flew like this. While the other Death Eaters thought it was strange, all of us in DE Unit 934: Juniors in Interrogation have gotten used to it. Blaise tried it once, nearly cost him his life! Harry says he just focuses on being with our master, and he just... _floats._ No one else attempted the feat after Zabini, and were wise not to. Blaise crashed into "Big Ben" and broke his nose, fractured a rib, and ruptured his spleen. That was a month ago, and even with all of the healers that crossed over to Lord Voldemort's side, he is still in recovery.

I was the one who spotted the Riddle Manor, even darker against the deep blue sky, like a shadow on the surrounding village of Little Hangleton. We landed on a street called Signor Avenue. We couldn't fly past that point, nor apparate, since the Dark Lord had wards setup that prevent that. We would have had to walk another mile, but luckily, Ron spotted three mopeds, one with a sidecar. It was too perfect. I was the only one who suspected anything, and the boys could be so thick sometimes, so they told me to stop being a buzz kill. So, we walked over to them, me still suspicious, until Ron yelped. "Scabbers! I mean Wormtail! I mean Pettigreee-ooohh never mind! What chu walking 'round my feet for, _rat._" Ron spit venomously as the mousy-looking man shifted back human. Even if he is Snape's lackey, none of us have a shred of respect for the idiot. I don't care who's side you're on, selling out your _bestfriends_, that is _**so**_not cool!

"Masters Weasley, Malfoy, Potter, and Mistress Granger, Severus has sent me to ensure you lot get to the manor in time for the ceremony." He said giddily, his hands motioning with every word. He exhaled anxiously, leading me to believe that the Dark Lord will take more convincing than we thought. "Thank you, Wormtail. Good to you." I say with a false smile, then I hopped onto the moped with the side car, yanking Harry along with me. Draco shooed him off finally, and Ron boarded the third moped.

We sped down the Avenue, ignoring all of the bowing witches and wizards rising from their pavilion tables at local eateries, and the occasional eye-roll from a lower-ranked Death Eater. A lot of them are a bit older than we are, but since we are higher up, they are forced to respect us. Draco gets the worst of it, since he murdered his father, but the lot of them got over it when they heard the full story. Now they all view us as a group of mad, bloodthirsty, kids, which I would say is a compliment. We managed to arrive in 4 minutes flat, and rushed through the tall wrought iron gates that towered menacingly above. They creaked shrilly as Ron pushed open one side, the wicked spikes on the bottom running along the lush lawn. Peter made an entrance, and led us up the winding gravel path to the large mahogany doors. When the crunching footsteps ceased, a flick of his wand caused the grotesque gargoyle knocker to lift from the wood, and fall smoothly back onto the door, echoing a thunderous _bang! _throughout the dim night. Before the door opened, we placed on our masks, and properly put Harry in restraints. Lord Voldemort does not do "lenient" when it comes to acts of treason.

"Enter." Boomed the ever calm voice of Severus, and the door opened silently, gliding across Slytherin-green plush carpet. Second to the carpets, the first thing you notice when you enter the Riddle Manor is the crystal chandelier floating above the circular front-room. Next you're likely to notice the dark-wood stairs curving around the room, the carpet continued up them in a centered strip, and the gleaming silver handrails trailing parallel, all leading up to endless hallways for visitor housing and high-profile interrogation. Last but not least, the Dark Lord's throne stands between the intertwining flights, the stairs resembling the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets as they snake up an d around the walls of the Manor. It was decorated with Silver and Emerald, the feet of it bronze, along with the engravings. Lord Voldemort was seated serenely, his piercing eyes looking to us expectantly. Luckily we caught on quick, and took a knee, well all of us except Harry, who looked conflicted about the whole thing. His face contorted from defiant grins to pleading dread. His mind _**had** _to have been tampered with!

"My Lord, we come to you with the news of our previous interrogation with Potter. The results were inconclusive, but we have reason to believe the Order has attempted Legilimency to sway his stance on the war. Sometimes, his mind is clear, and he can see that his loyalties lie with you, my Lord. But others, he tries to speak ill of you, and vilify our cause, praising the Mudbloods and blood-traitors. Torturing him was futile, so I took it into my own hands. I tried a more subtle approach, and he started to open up to me. My Lord, all we are asking is for a second chance to _help him._ We all believe that Harry would never consciously defy you, and we **will **do whatever it takes to prove this to you, sir." I attempted to say that confidently, but it was obviously oozing with desperation. The Dark Lord also looked conflicted, but briefly, and I bet I was the only one to notice that flicker of indecisive behavior.

"Hermione Jean Granger, friend of Harry James Potter, leader of DE Unit 934: Juniors in Interrogation, I will ask you a series of questions. If you answer them all to my satisfaction, your request may be carried out, and you will be officially christened _the brightest witch of your age._" He took a deep drink from a goblet, handed by Sev, and refrained from smacking his lips afterwards, like a certain Weasley would have done without a second thought. Well, if answering a few questions right gets us what we want, I have no choice, its the only option. "I'm ready, sir." I said a bit more confidently than earlier, and rose from my knee, removing my mask. The others in DE Unit 934, Juniors in Interrogation followed suit, and the Dark Lord smiled. "Good."

To everyone's surprise he hopped up from his throne, and stood in the middle of the room. He proceeded with the most bizarre action ever: he closed his eyes and spun around, swinging his wand in large circles. Any other spectators would have cringed at such a sight, but those in DE Unit 934, Juniors in Interrogation were used to witnessing the most unusual sights; they knew that this was ritual of some sort, and they were in for a treat, or so they hoped.

Suddenly, we weren't in the front-room anymore. Instead, we were on the set of _"Are You Smarter Than A Death Eater?" _and I was seated in a desk between Dolohov and Crabbe Jr. I waved to Dolohov, and stuck my tongue out and Crabbe. He was also in DE Unit 934, Juniors in Interrogation, but was often off-duty, along with a few others. Lord Voldemort must have summoned him and 'Hov here for the game. When we're off-duty, this show and reading are my two favorite pastimes. It was slightly different from the Muggle-version, but still very much entertaining, and now I am a contestant!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: How are you all enjoying the story so far (if at all)? Please, leave it in the reviews. Stay classy.**

The Dark Lord knows me well, as a challenge like this would be right up my alley. Although, even with my advantage of a well-organized mind, and the initiative to pursue random (but not useless) pieces of knowledge, when I'm not doing my death eater duties, the other two contestants have certain attributes that I lack. For arguments sake, if we were thrust into a life-threatening situation, I would try to rationalize and take a more logical standpoint, while Dolohov would act-first-think-later, and Crabbe would take the more difficult route, since he always felt he had something to prove. In any scenario, however, one tactic would prevail over the others. Hopefully all of our questions are based on intellect and book-smarts, or practical scenarios, because Harry's life depends on it.

"Now, if any of you have seen this glorious show before, you would know that it is very different from the Muggle version! I have only three categories, and they aren't ranked by grade level, but instead by consequence. If you miss the question, you get the consequence. For example, if Mr. Dolohov here missed the question in the **Finger loss **category, he will have a difficult time entertaining his dragons on his flute!" The Dark Lord was smiling wickedly as Dolohov paled at the possibility. He then set his jaw and wore a look of determination. I _have _to win.

"Good, ladies first." Severus said as our master took his seat on his throne. "Ms. Granger, choose...your...cat-...egory." He often dragged out his sentences, and I had to resist the urge to burst into laughter. "Alright Sev, I'll have," I looked at the glowing blue board, then confidently continued, "Hogwarts: A History for the beheaded level!" I shouted aloud, followed by the murmurs and gasps from a crowd I hadn't noticed before. I looked to my friends uncertainly but they all just nodded at me grinning; this was also up my alley. "Brave choice, Ms. Granger. Here is your question: _Which two Hogwarts students were the only recorded in Parseltongues in history, besides Salazar Slytherin?_" Sev couldn't help but smirk. I didn't even hesitate. "The only two recorded Parseltongues other than Salazar Slytherin are yours truly, our well respected Lord Voldemort, and my very best friend," I turned to Harry with a grateful smile, then answered, "Harry James Potter." The crowd applauded when my head stayed attached to my neck, and Sev moved on to Crabbe.

The game didn't last long, since Crabbe and Dolohov were losing a lot of blood, and like everyone predicted, I was victorious. I took my place beside the Dark Lord and the ex-potions-master on stage, carrying a bouquet of black roses and a portkey wrapped in a handkerchief. It was a tube of my favorite lipstick, a deep red color. "Alright, Hermione you have proved the strength in your knowledge, your bravery and willingness to help out a friend, so you shall be rewarded accordingly." The Dark Lord clapped me on the back as the crowd hooted and cheered, littering the stage with conjured flowers and trinkets. "Thank you, Master." I say before heading over to my friends as the crowd left the conjured stands. Draco reached me first. "Wow Hermione, that was insane! You blew the other two out of the water!" He was saying this while squeezing the Magic out of me in a bone-crushing hug. He quickly dropped me and sped away when he spotted Pansy, shouted for her to join him later for a movie. We all knew Draco was mad for Parkinson, I just wish he wasn't so...tactless. But, then again, Ron wasn't very good at expressing himself appropriately either when it came to me. He would be rude and obnoxious, instead of caring and romantic. He also knows I just don't feel that way about him. Ugh, don't even get me started on Harry! He is just so oblivious; women young and old throw themselves at him, yet he only has eyes for one, and that is Severus' adopted daughter, Dahlia.

I'd never admit it...EVER, but I've grown very _fond _of Harry. In a way, I did like Ron, but that was only because I thought Harry fancied Ginny! Once we joined the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort, the possibility of him and Ginny ceased to exist. He tried to convince her to join us, but was left heartbroken as she went with her family, ruthlessly rejecting his offer. He was depressed for a while after, since he and Ginny had grown pretty close, but that was replaced with hatred, and he got over her. Dahlia caught his eye when she showed up at the Riddle Manor for the celebration of the Dark Lord's rebirth. Everyone had mixed feelings towards Harry during that time, since he dueled our master that day, but most everyone was clapping him on the back, thanking him for making this all possible. Dahlia wasn't exactly a Death Eater, but since her dad was, she got along well with everyone. Apparently she was in our year at Hogwarts, and was in Slytherin. I guess she kept a low-profile, being the daughter of her head of house and all. Ever since that day, when he offered her a dance, then later got engrossed in deep conversation about who knows what, he's been smitten. Frankly, I don't see what's so great about her. Yeah she's tall, with waist-length blonde curls, Caribbean-blue eyes, and smooth pale skin, plus she's an absolute wiz at the Dark Arts, but other than that, it's unclear what Harry sees in her!

Ron stalked towards me with a contemplative grin, then leaned in. I quickly took a few steps back, avoiding his Fire Whiskey scented lips. His mouth was still puckered as I walked outwardly around him, weaving through the growing crowd of partiers; Lord Voldemort would celebrate _anything_.


End file.
